Manuel Oliver in “GUAC” at the Kirk Douglas Theatre (Photo by Elija Pelton)
Tune In, Turn On, Don’t Drop Out!
The Art of Political Engagement in What the Constitution Means to Me and GUAC
By Warren D Riley
Reya Shah and Aubrey Saverino in “What the Constitution Means to Me” at Chance Theater. (Photo by Doug Catiller)
This feature is part of the Stage Raw/Unusual Suspects Youth Journalism Fellowship
As mail-in ballots flood PO boxes and front doorsteps, local productions from Culver City to Anaheim are empowering Angelenos to make their voices heard this mid-term election season.
Early in October, Chance Theater in Anaheim opened a remount of 2019 Pulitzer Prize Finalist Heidi Schreck’s What the Constitution Means to Me, helmed by director Katie Chidester. Through the strict format of a high school debate tournament, actress Aubrey Savarino performed as the playwright herself, detailing the writer’s personal connection to the supreme law of the land with effortless likability. As Savarino took on Schreck’s iconic monologue-based solo-show, the actress accompanied personal anecdotes with examples of our Constitution’s usage, exposing the good, the bad, and the ugly that have marked the document’s ever-growing history.
Following Chance Theater’s opening, Guac arrived at CTG LA’s Kirk Douglas Theatre (being performed through Nov. 2.) With keen direction by Michael Cotey, the solo show stars activist and performance artist Manuel Oliver, sharing the story of his son Joaquin (or “Guac”) who was tragically lost in the Parkland school shooting. Oliver paints, shouts, and laughs throughout the impassioned one-man show, aptly bringing truth to power while leaving the audience with an effervescent sense of hope. As conversations considering the Second Amendment grow to a crescendo, Oliver, paintbrush in hand, situates the debate within the tragedy that struck his own family. His humor, charm, and the love which emanates from his voice remind the audience that before he was a playwright, a performer, or an activist, Oliver is a father; one who lost his son in a manner that appears increasingly and horrifically unavoidable for American school students.
The medium of solo shows (or near-solo shows as WTCMTM has two other minor characters) in such a political context seemingly gives artists like Oliver and Savarino the weight of our country’s history on their lone shoulders. However, in a time marked by a steady decline in attention span, solo show performers are teaching audiences to have the stamina to listen at length again. Stamina in this regard may even be too harsh a term, as the talent of either actor makes their run-times seemingly nonexistent. Their performances ensure that the audience can never truly look away; they are forced to contend with the current realities of our country without clicking away, logging off, or closing their ears.
Written in 2017, What the Constitution Means to Me explains chief aspects of the nation’s founding document through the nerdy, pre-teen excitement of playwright Heidi Schreck’s 15-year-old self as skillfully portrayed by Savarino. As a youth, Heidi earned money for college tuition by participating in constitution-focused speech and debate conferences. Savarino takes us on a journey through Heidi’s life, each milestone somehow intertwining with a constitutional amendment or a landmark Supreme Court decision. Schreck’s text, with the help of an engaging performance from Savarino, shows the audience why they should care for our Constitution, specifically in a time where its most basic protections are seemingly waived left and right.
Heidi explains how our Constitution is made of negative rights as opposed to positive. In the context of constitutional scholarship, the former outlines things that the government absolutely cannot do while the latter ensures access to services and rights. Shreck uses examples of historic court rulings to point out how this preference for negative rights has furthered and ensured the power/protection of white men. A push for positive rights would require accountability from the government that may call into question these institutions of power.
“Negative rights protect us from the government taking our stuff, locking us up, killing us. Positive rights are active rights. They include things like the right to a fair trial, the right to counsel, in some countries the right to healthcare.”
Manuel Oliver in “GUAC” at the Kirk Douglas Theatre (Photo by Elija Pelton)
One such negative right appears in the Second Amendment, the right to bear arms, the same negative right that laid the groundwork for Manuel Oliver to pen GUAC. However, Oliver spends little of the performance discussing the amendment itself. In fact, he spends barely any time arguing for or against gun control, expressing weariness about being continually asked for political guidance from others. Oliver does not use his time on stage to lay an ideological framework but instead takes the opportunity to expand on the life and story of his late son. As he introduces his family to the audience (through particularly comical full-body portraits), Oliver focuses a great deal of time on the joy that his son brought him during his 17 years of life. Guac’s portrait remains on stage for the duration of the one-man show as his father builds upon the picture through painting as well as the placing of sunflowers through holes in the canvas signifying the three wounds that led to his son’s untimely death.
Oliver allows memories of pure joy to leak through the cracks of the horrific tragedy. In one moment, he creates a hypothetical scenario wherein God appears at the birth of his Son and offers him an ultimatum: he can have Joaquin and raise him through childhood if he agrees that he can only have the boy for 17- years. Oliver chooses, with utter joy, to embrace the newborn and raise Guac on limited time.
Due to the show’s preoccupation with debate, What the Constitution Means to Me is similarly concerned with decision-making, most notably as the solo structure of the play fades away and two other characters are introduced alongside Savarino. One, a legionnaire played by the charming Robert Foran, whose presence further legitimized the debate stage expertly designed by Megan Hill. And two, a real teenage debater, Reya Shah, who came in at the play’s conclusion to live-debate Savarino on stage. The inclusion of a young female voice at the play’s end was powerful, all thanks to the ardent eloquence of Shah as she debated with Savarino over whether the United States ought to keep or abolish the Constitution. Allowing the audience to act as the final debate judge, one participant is selected to open one of two envelopes, solidifying the final winner of the debate. At the performance I attended, performance, the audience elected to keep the Constitution; an action underscored by Shreck’s insistence on staying active in policy making.
Either of these examples, (the choice to raise a son on limited time, or the choice to confront our constitution head-on) though marked by vastly different emotional scenarios, make the theatrical argument for opting in. Whether it be the choice to face our founding document indiscriminately, or to fight for a loved one’s life cut short, the message emanating from local theatrical work is to take an active step and engage. It can be easy to turn away from the noise, but if you ventured out to Anaheim’s Chance Theatre or can do so to the Kirk Douglas before November 2, you may be compelled to face the ugliness of our political landscape and the tragedies found therein. Shreck takes a loving and thorough examination of how our Constitution can be improved, while Oliver reminds Angelenos why we have chosen to fight to make our voices heard.
WHAT THE CONSTITUTION MEANS TO ME Chance Theatre, 5522 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim. Closed.
GUAC Kirk Douglas Theatre, 9820 Washington Blvd., Culver City; Tues.-Thurs., 7:30 pm, Fri.-Sat., 8 pm, Sun., 1 pm, Sun., Nov. 2, 7 pm; thru Nov. 2. https://CenterTheatreGroup.org Running time: 100 minutes with no intermission.
